


so filthy, dialed desire

by endofadream



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Phone Sex, Phone Sex Operator Steve Rogers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Shy Bucky Barnes, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22779373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endofadream/pseuds/endofadream
Summary: There’s a phone in one hand and a small business card in the other; in his gut there’s a twisting feeling that tastes like apprehension, and not for the first time does Bucky ask himself, staring at the tiny black print,what the hell am I doing?He doesn’t callsex hotlines.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 62
Kudos: 438





	so filthy, dialed desire

There’s a phone in one hand and a small business card in the other; in his gut there’s a twisting feeling that tastes like apprehension, and not for the first time does Bucky ask himself, staring at the tiny black print,  _ what the hell am I doing? _

He doesn’t call  _ sex hotlines _ . Sure, he has his neuroses, and sure, ever since he came back from Afghanistan he’s been a bit of a recluse, but he’s still got it, if he was feeling up to actually going out like he used to.

Bottom line is, Bucky Barnes does  _ not _ need to  _ pay _ someone for sex.

And yet, here he is, alone in his apartment on a Saturday night with nothing but weeks’ worth of sexual frustration pooling in his stomach and a card in his hand that was not-so-subtly given to him by Nat before she left, with the parting words  _ please get laid, James, for the love of god. _

As he flips the card in his fingers, his eyes, drawn like moths to a light, keep landing on the number and then the words  _ let our boys make your fantasies come true! _

Bucky closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath. He reminds himself that it’s been over a year since he’s had sex and the closest thing he’s had to it in that time was a drunken fumble in a club with a guy who smelled like cheap cologne and who had gotten off and left before Bucky had even had a chance to try for his own. Not sure if it was the arm or just the guy being a general grade-A asshole, Bucky hasn’t tried to get laid like that since.

He shakes his head. No one has to know, right? Bucky can...call this hotline and Nat will never know. She’s gone anyway, out for the night with some guy he thinks is named Clint, and Bucky can delete the number from his history and rip up the card. She’ll never find out.

With an internal mantra of  _ I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself _ , Bucky slowly dials the number. He walks across his room to the door, shutting it and locking it, just in case, before heading back to his bed. Once there he sprawls out and rests his free hand low on his stomach, just shy of the waistband of his jeans, and presses his phone to his ear.

An automated female voice asks for his credit card information, which Bucky gives without trying to think too much about it. Once verified, the same automated voice thanks him and tells him to hold for the next available operator. In his chest Bucky’s heart pounds as the line mechanically clicks.

It rings.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, holds his breath, and then a voice, sweet but smoky and deep, answers.  _ “Good evening.” _

It’s just two simple words, but somehow the voice on the other end manages to stretch them, make them wrap like silk and velvet around Bucky’s entire body. He finds himself shivering, his cock fattening slightly in his jeans as he imagines what  _ else _ that deep voice will say.

“Uh…hi,” he manages. He just barely resists smacking himself on the forehead.

There’s a chuckle, just as gorgeous as the voice.  _ “My, someone’s a little nervous, aren’t we? Well, don’t be, sugar. I’m here for your pleasure and for your pleasure only. So what do you want from me, handsome?” _

“I—” Bucky stops, jaw snapping shut, because what  _ does _ he want? It’s a loaded question with too many different answers for Bucky to keep up with. He wants a lot of things, but he doesn’t want anything with a nameless voice over the phone—which is kind of dumb, since that’s what these hotlines are  _ for _ . He bites the bullet anyway and says, “I want, uh. Give me your name. Please. Mine is Bucky.”

Another chuckle, and Bucky practically melts into the bed. He exhales long and slow towards the ceiling as the man begins speaking.  _ “I’m not supposed to, but just for you, handsome, because you sound like this is your first time and your voice is real pretty. My name’s Steve, and it’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” _

Now Bucky laughs, and he rubs at his eyes, tries to control his breathing, his heart rate, the twisting sinuous snakes of nerves low in his stomach. “Nice to meet you, too, Steve. And it is my first time…at this, at least.”

There’s a surprising sort of ease between them, like they’re just two friends having a conversation. Bucky feels the embarrassment, the nervousness, finally begin to slip and melt away. He relaxes into this new feeling as Steve laughs again.

_ “Now, what’ll it be?” _ he asks, shattering the illusion as his voice slips back down to smoky, enticing.  _ “I can be whoever you want. I can do whatever you want, gorgeous.” _

Bucky wets his lips, tries to imagine what Steve looks like, what his cubicle looks like, what he’s wearing. He’d never dare ask that question, because he knows he’d get that hackneyed  _ nothing _ . Steve sounds young, but not too young. Bucky isn’t exactly old himself, having just crossed the line into thirty.

“Just be you,” he finally says, slipping his hand a little lower to squeeze his cock, feeling his nerves light up and that ever-present fire kindle into something stronger. This is just a one-time thing, that’s all that matters. “What do you look like?”

_ “I’m, hm, I’m six-foot-two. Blond. I go to the gym five days a week, so use your imagination on that.” _ The smirk in his voice is evident, and Bucky is surprised that  _ that _ also turns him on.

“I’m six foot,” Bucky replies, rubbing over his cock. “Brunet. I go to the gym, but not as much as I used to.” He inhales, ragged, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stretches his neck back. “God, Steve, you sound so fucking hot.”

_ “So do you, Bucky. Just your voice gets my cock  _ so hard _.” _

Bucky sucks in a breath and doesn’t bite back his moan in time. He rubs the heel of his palm rough over his cock, imagines Steve, faceless but somehow still gorgeous, spread out on this bed with his own cock stiff and heavy between his legs. Maybe he shaves; Bucky’s always liked how sensitive it makes him in the day or so following. Closing his eyes, Bucky lets himself also wonder what Steve’s cock looks like, if he’s long and thin like he himself is, or if he’s thick, the kind of nice, fat cock that Bucky would feel for days.

“Y-yeah?” he asks on a harsh exhale. He squeezes himself, hips rocking up. “How hard are you?”

_ “ _ So hard _ , sweetheart. It’s making my tiny briefs so damp. I should probably take them off…” _

Bucky nods, uncaring that Steve can’t see him. He pops the button on his jeans, slides down the zipper. He pushes his underwear down just far enough to grasp his cock and pull it out, and he’s already so hard, already damp at the tip, just from this. “Yeah, take them off,” Bucky groans, fisting his cock. There’s a crackle of static in his ear as he shifts, adjusts the phone against his ear.

A shuffle on the other end of the line, then Steve’s deep baritone saying,  _ “I’m naked now, baby, are you?” _

Bucky strips faster than he probably ever has in his life, throwing his jeans and boxers onto the floor. “Yeah, I. I just took off my jeans and underwear.”

_ “You stroking your big cock for me now, Bucky?” _

Bucky tips his head back into his pillow, wrapping his fist around his cock. It throbs under his touch as he strokes, dry, once from root to tip. “Mm, ‘m touching myself, but it’s not enough.”

_ “What do you need? Need my mouth around your cock? Do you like when your partner looks at you when their mouth is stuffed full, sweetheart? I’ve been told I’ve got some big, pretty eyes.” _

Bucky digs his thumbnail into the slit, a keening whine leaving his mouth. The hand holding his phone is clammy as he grips it tighter. “W-what color are they?”

_ “They’re a real pale blue. I love lookin’ up at my partners when I’m sucking them off, knowing how good I’m being for them. God, you got no idea how hot it gets me, watching them. How badly I need to touch myself when I do.” _

Bucky’s eyes fucking  _ cross _ , and pre-come blurts onto the heaving planes of his belly. “God,  _ fuck _ .” He strips himself, rough and fast, the mattress squeaking under him. “Touch yourself for me, Steve. Let me hear what you sound like when you do.”

There’s a breathy groan on the other line, and even though Bucky knows it’s for show he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter that he’s paying by the minute, that he doesn’t even know the man on the other line. Steve’s voice is beautifully needy when he moans,  _ “Oh, baby, my cock is just  _ aching _ , and I’ve got two fingers inside myself right now. I’m so wet, and they just aren’t  _ enough _. I need something bigger.” _

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Bucky swears, thumbing over the head of his dick. His hips lift off the bed, and his groan is louder than he expected. The words tumble out of him, easy, surprising. “You want my dick in your slutty little hole, Steve? Want me to fuck you until you scream?”

He hasn’t talked dirty like this to anyone in...well, forever. There’s another breathy groan, but somehow this one sounds a little more real. Bucky shakes it off, wets his lips again, continues: “Want me to eat you out until you come all over yourself?” he bites out, digging his head back into the pillows as he squeezes his cock. “Yeah, I bet you do, Christ, bet you sound so fucking gorgeous when you’ve got a tongue in your ass.”

_ “Oh, Bucky, please,” _ Steve murmurs. It’s almost like a shock to hear Steve say his name in this whispery, strung-out voice. It makes Bucky’s cock throb, pre-come dribbling out onto his hand as he twists below the head and hangs on to every word.  _ “I’ll suck your big, hard cock, get it nice and ready for my tight little hole. Will I be able to take it, gorgeous?” _

The image is so titillating that Bucky has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming as his back bows up off the bed. “Shit—yeah, fuck. You’ll be able to take it. You’ll take it so well for me, too. I bet you’d look so pretty bouncing on my cock.”

_ “Mmm, baby,  _ yeah _. I love riding cock. I’ve got three fingers in me now, but I want you.” _

Something rustles on the other line, but Bucky ignores it as he works his fist tight and fast over the length of his cock. He’s so close already, but it’s not embarrassing, not with this breathily sexy voice in his ear coaxing him,  _ telling _ him things that turn his rational brain to liquid.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasps. His thighs begin to shake as he strains up, fucks his cock through his fist. It’s dry, just pre-come slicking the way, but he doesn’t care, not with Steve’s deep voice and heavy breaths on the other line.

Steve’s voice echoes through the phone, deep and panting, and his words lose their seductive quality and sink down to something much more real, much rawer, than before.  _ “God, baby, that’s it. Fuck me with your big cock and come inside me. Pump me so full of it that I forget my own name. Make it drip out of me so you can lick it out, clean me up, I’ll taste so fucking good—” _

Bucky’s coming, then, orgasm yanked out of him sharp, like with a fish hook. He doesn’t push his shirt up in time and white streaks across the hem, sticky and warm. The slide of his hand over his cock squelches, slick, as come dribbles down the swollen head, over the pulsing, hard length and to the softness of his balls below. On the other end there’s a long, low moan that seems to settle in his bones.

He lets his sticky hand fall to the sheets as his chest heaves, his ears ring, his heart pounds. All that matters right now is the delicious liquid fire sluggishly pumping through his veins, the heavy-yet-weightless feel of a fantastic orgasm settling over him as he sinks bonelessly into the sheets.

_ “Well,” _ Steve says on the other line. He coughs, and strangely sounds embarrassed.  _ “You’re the first person who’s ever made me come on the phone like that.” _

Bucky’s eyes open, and he raises his brows at the ceiling. “Really?”

Steve laughs.  _ “Ah, yeah. Really. I wasn’t exactly aiming to actually  _ come _ , but you’re…you’re really good at this, Bucky. I’m kind of a mess right now.” _

Bucky blushes and reaches for a tissue, cleaning up his hand and his stomach. “Uh, thanks?”

Steve laughs again, awkward but genuine.  _ “Seriously. You’re better than my regulars.” _

For some reason a sharp sting of jealousy passes quickly through Bucky, and he can’t stop himself before he asks, “Regulars?”

_ “Of course,” _ Steve replies in that same captivating, silky-smooth voice that had reeled Bucky in.  _ “I’m something of a hot commodity around here. But…” _ He pauses, then lets out a fake gasp.  _ “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” _

The blush creeps further up until it encompasses the tips of Bucky’s ears, and they burn like fire. “N-no. Why would I be? I don’t know you.”

_ “But you could,” _ Steve purrs.  _ “Any guy who makes me come  _ that _ hard so early into my shift deserves a reward. You might have even ruined me for the entire night and I will have some very unsatisfied customers.” _

“Oh. Um, well…” What does he say? He’s flattered, really, and it’s relieving to know that he hadn’t been terrible, but the idea of talking to Steve after this is more terrifying than anything he’d thought he’d experience tonight. It’s not like he’d be opposed to finding a boyfriend, but he’d called this number for anonymous—well, at least semi-anonymous—sex. “How could we even get to know each other besides me spending a fortune calling this number?”

_ “I saw your area code. You live in New York, I live in New York…” _

“I—I—”

_ “Listen, Bucky, how about I call you tomorrow evening since I’m not working, and we can figure things out then.” _ His voice drops, and suddenly he sounds younger.  _ “I’m not kidding when I say you might have ruined me for the entire night.” _

“How old are you?” Bucky blurts out, clutching the phone tightly in his hand. Steve’s words barely register in his mind, and there’s a space of silence between them after Bucky speaks.

Finally, Steve says,  _ “I’m twenty-one.” _

Bucky swears, “ _ Fuck _ ,” and then says, “God, okay, that’s…okay.”

_ “Is it?” _ Steve asks, amused.  _ “How old are you?” _

“More than,” Bucky replies honestly, because it is. He just really, really wants to talk to Steve tomorrow as just two normal guys. Maybe. If it devolves into phone sex again then he’s definitely not fucking complaining. “I’m, uh. I just turned thirty last month. If that’s okay.”

_“Thirty_.” Steve sounds contemplative. It also sounds like there’s a smile in his voice. _“I can work with thirty. Goodbye, Bucky.”_ Hesitance, then, low and enticing, _“I bet I’d taste even sweeter over your fingers, handsome.”_

He hangs up before Bucky can even open his mouth and suck in a squeaked breath of air.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is [here](http://endofadream.tumblr.com) if, y'know, you're into that sort of thing, same with [instagram](http://instagram.com/wintersoldiered) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/copperinsides)!
> 
> reviews appreciated and help me write more! i love talking about my work with y’all :)


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